


lift yourself out of the blue.

by ohnewts (ohmaggies)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Friends to Enemies to Lab Partners to Lovers, M/M, Mako Mori Is Alive, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), i took some creative liberties with this because i haven't yet seen uprising!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 08:04:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14374467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmaggies/pseuds/ohnewts
Summary: “You don’t want to go back home?” Mako asks, with wide, worried eyes. Behind them, Newton, or his body, is sitting in a chair waiting for Hermann.Hermann knows this like he knows a number of other things he doesn’t say aloud, so he meets Mako’s eye and gracefully manages, “I suppose this is home now, this shatterdome. No place quite like it now that the kaiju are gone.”.They stay in Hong Kong when it’s all said and done.





	lift yourself out of the blue.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't seen uprising (and have no plans to atm) but i've seen A Lot for it and wanted to write something short for my favourite gay scientist boys. and alive mako because i love her :((
> 
> \- rachel.

 

 

 

> “We could carry each other.
> 
> Lift yourself out of the blue”

\-- _Leagues, “carry each other.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

They stay in Hong Kong when it’s all said and done.

Hermann can’t imagine being anywhere else now, and Newton is half man, half the kaiju rotting in his brain. So, they stay in Hong Kong, and Hermann tells Mako that it was a choice because she asks and because he’s okay with lying to her if he’s already going to be lying to himself about it. He’s halfway to speak to Newton, a book in his hand and his cane in the other; they’ve made progress, it’s not much but it’s enough that Hermann will take it as such.

“You don’t want to go back home?” Mako asks, with wide, worried eyes. Behind them, Newton, or his body, is sitting in a chair waiting for Hermann.

Hermann knows this like he knows a number of other things he doesn’t say aloud, so he meets Mako’s eye and gracefully manages, “I suppose this is home now, this shatterdome. No place quite like it now that the kaiju are gone.”

Mako doesn’t look convinced, the expression on her face too knowing for Hermann to be comfortable with. But, she smiles, and it’s gentle though almost accusing, in a way Hermann doesn’t recognise at first. It’s been a long few years since they spent much time together and they were never really all that close to begin with, not like her and Newt when she was considerably younger. Unlike her teenaged self, she doesn’t challenge the subject further and for that, Hermann is grateful.

“I’ll tell the others you’re going in to see him,” she offers, smile fading when she thinks he's not paying attention. “See you later, Dr. Gottlieb.”

Hermann thanks her, his body relying too heavily on his cane. It's been a rough few years, despite how these years have been kinder than ones in the past; getting back Newton but not _really_ getting him back has taken its toll. Before the other month, he'd spent ten years throwing himself into his work like it'd distract him from being left behind, while knowing full well it wouldn't.

Perhaps seeing Newton like this is worse than having to pretend that he hated him for those twelve years they shared their lives.

-

The precursors leave Newt's brain.

They're still there, of course, and he spends an hour one night pacing around his cell arguing with Hermann in three different points of narrative. Hermann's smart enough to know what it means, and he smiles shakily when Newt suddenly looks at him, relief and realisation painted in his features. For the most past, Newt speaks as himself, but sometimes he slips and it's the things lying dormant in his head or the parts of Hermann he picked up in the drift. And, as time goes on, Hermann becomes somewhat of an expert at knowing which voice is Newt.

Really, though, he always knew Newton best. Some days, he knew him better than himself, and after the drift- in the painful months that followed Newton deciding to cut off what relationship they had that could be called a relationship- he never quite felt alone. On the lonely days, packing his things up in the lab and visiting family that was never family in the way Newt was, Hermann wasn't ever alone.

Newton was gone, after twelve long years, but they'd drifted, Hermann loved him- so, Newton was never really gone.

-

Winter gets cold, so they get an apartment. It’s not exactly small or large, but a comfortable in-between, with two bedrooms and a kitchen and a bathroom. It's nice, with a decent view of the city around them and the bay quiet in the distance. Somedays, Hermann and Newton watch the sun rise over the buildings and paint the concrete in orange and pinks, matching mugs of coffee in their hands and words unsaid sitting in mouths. Then it gets cold, and they learn to fall asleep before morning so they don't see the sunrises again.

Winter gets cold, so they wrap their hands around mugs and secure their bodies from the wind in thick jackets. They go for walks around the block on the days Hermann wants to, and Newt falls against a shop window laughing as the breeze pulls at Hermann’s hood buried around his neck and forces it over his eyes. It’s not quite raining yet but it could be, if they give it time.

Newt pushes himself away from the window and into Hermann, his fingers gently lifting the hood so they can look at each other. There's something strikingly familiar and unfamiliar about it all at once, how Newt looks different without his glasses, and his tattoos hidden under layers of clothing. He's never been one to complain about the cold but he borrowed one of Hermann's jackets earlier because he was worried about, 'Freezing my ass off, Hermie.’

It's the Newt that Hermann used to know in this moment, a smile that is nestled more in one corner of his mouth than the other. They're blissfully dry as the sky crackles above them in warning, even though the weather forecast said it might be weeks before it would begin to rain again.

Hong Kong has plenty of memories associated with it that Hermann is trying to forget, Newton is not one of them.

-

They have dinner together every night, and every night Newton promises he'll clean up after it despite both of them knowing he won't remember until morning. It's a routine they fall into, amongst other things, where they wake up and know almost exactly how the day will go from the moment it starts to the moment it becomes another day.

Hermann likes it, and so does Newton, despite his fondness of spontaneity. They're opposites in some respects but they worked together for long enough to know how to make it work, to know that they'll find a balance for the things they can't quite agree on. There's no tape and no lab split in half, and Newton ends up in Hermann's bed more times than he ends up in his own, and they silently rule it down to compromise and don't mention it.

That's how it starts- possibly, maybe, almost most definitely- with walls metaphorically broken down, from sharing labs to sharing apartments to sharing beds to sharing lives. They make it work because it's them, and because they have to make up for time they lost, and because Newt lost ten years of his life that he could've spent with Hermann had he not been possessed by the precursors. He could've spent ten more years at Hermann's side, and Hermann would've let him.

-

Hermann has built a plethora of new memories in this home with Newton, some he wishes he could forget and some he hopes he never does. The only thing he has ever been more sure of than the guarantee of finding truth in his mathematics is that he loves Newton, and the fact they didn't end in tragedy is a blessing Hermann will never understand. He's thankful for it, but Newt falls asleep with his head on Hermann's shoulder, hair brushing cheekbones and neck because he's been letting it grow out like it used to be, and Hermann can't believe this is his.

After everything, after years and years of a careful push and pull, of arguments and labs and kaiju, this is his.

 _Newton_ , is his.

He's too old to think this is anything more than chance, because his numbers never could've predicted this. They're good, but he wouldn't know where to start; him, Newt, and a lab equals… Something, or rather a variable that doesn't exist yet; Hermann can predict a breach, a kaiju, two kaiju or three, but falling in love with Doctor Geiszler is something he could written up a sum for and still not resolved. It's not maths, it's not a chemical or a number, it just is. Maybe that's why. Besides, it's not a puzzle he's willing to put together, not when he knows that how he feels speaks louder than any equation he could try to write.

Hermann, Newton, and a lab equals…

“You think too hard,” Newt mumbles then, breathing warmth into Hermann's shoulder. “Anyone ever told you that?”

“Sleep, liebling,” Hermann shushes tiredly, and the hand Newt has in his squeezes.

“...that's a new one,” Newt observes, and the effort it takes him to say the words through his exhaustion is clear. Still, he lifts his head and stares at Hermann until Hermann turns to look at him, too close in their shared space.

They've never been ones for grand gestures or random proclamations of love, and Hermann will admit he doesn't partake in that because he doesn't think he needs to. Neither of them do; whatever they can tell each other about how they feel the other will already know, partly due to being in each other's head and mostly due to those sentiments being returned. They don't need to mention it but Hermann still pauses and lets his features soften when Newt rests his chin on his shoulder, says, “You know I love you?”

So, Hermann doesn't say it back.

But, Newton knows. He knows.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Liebling_ \- German for 'darling'.
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading  ♡..
> 
> \- rachel.


End file.
